Lover Mine
by vishousgirlxoxo
Summary: Vishous didn't bond with Jane, but had actually found someone else instead. They meet under dire circumanstances only to find that the Scribe Virgin is hiding more secrets.
1. Chapter 1Barnes and Noble

I do not own any of these characters. The amazing author J.R Ward did.

Barnes and Noble. Of all the fucking places the lessers could have picked, it had to be this one. Vishous cursed audibly, earning an evil look from a squat old lady. Phury and John Matthew follow him into the store.

The sweet smelling fucker had disappeared into the rows and shelves of newly printed books. A few night owls wandered around, but otherwise the little sucker was outnumbered. But he had dragged them into a public place where they couldn't do anything.

Vishous wanted to incinerate the place, he was so effin' pissed. Now they just needed to flush the lesser out, then get the little fucker and send him on a one way trip back to the Omega. That was Vishous' plan. Quick. Simple. Easy to remember.

He nose caught a whiff of baby powder, and he charged down an aisle. Intent on his prey. He was so intent that he almost plowed over a petite girl, who was reading the back of a book on environmental science. She was so small for a moment he thought she should have been home, asleep because she had grade school in the morning.

Vishous towers over her, knowing he should keep going but finding that he couldn't. She smells positively enticing. Somewhere between morning fog and mountain rain. It was something he couldn't explain, but all he knew was that he wanted it.

He glances down at her, her honey-brown eyes staring at him. the thought of being young was banished when he saw her eyes, such deep sad eyes, eyes that had seen years of suffering. "Do you think you could watch where you're going next time, please?" her voice was tough for someone so small, but not biting. Vishous shrugs.

"Depends on if there's a next time." He replies. She smirks, and gets up, slinging her bag further up on her shoulder. Her clothes too big for her, hiding her body. they were baggy, swallowing her up like Rhage's beast does to lesser who get too close.

"Whatever." She shakes her head, "hope you find whatever your looking for." She turns to leave, but Vishous didn't want her to. he wanted her to stay. Confused at the feeling, Vishous' face went blanker then usual. Not the stupid blank, but the uncaring features of someone who doesn't care, apathetic.

"How do you know I'm looking for something?" he asks. She glances over her shoulder, her long braid reaching down to her mid-back. She smiles, it lights up your face. but not her eyes.

"Well why else would you be moving so fast? And plow an innocent bystander like me to the ground?" she answers, gathering the thick book into her arms. "Later." Vishous chuckles, smart. She was a smart one.

But she was right, and just as he was about to turn the other way a large man by the name of Butch came running down the ailse, rams into the girl making her stumble to the ground in a very ungraceful manner, and then knocks into Vishous, making him drop a dagger which he was in process of pulling out of the sheath. Vishous wastes no time, but immediately follows.

Laura grumbles obscenities at the other huge man. Jesus Christ, what were they feeding them these days? Steroids? Growth hormones? Both? She shakes her head, and sees the dagger.

Well now…

She reaches over, and picks it up. It was a Black Dagger. She inspects it; it was heavy, but beautiful. Long and slender, she liked it, but she knew something like this took time and money. And being the goody-too-shoes she was, she couldn't keep it. So she stood up, and put the dagger in her bag. she knew her fearlessness of a dagger would not be shared by other Barnes and Noble costumers.

She briefly thought that she should be worried about finding a dagger dropped by a man like that. But she had grown up in an area where even the fucking squirrels carried knives. So was she worried about giving a man back his dagger? Nah, not at all.

So she rounds the corner, seeing a jumble of confused faces but not much more. Tugging at her too big shirt, she looks around, searching for the big man with the sexy goatee and tattoos around his eyes. She could tell by that gleam in his eyes he was intelligent too.

As she meandered through the bookshelves, she saw him, towering over a bookcase. Black hair slightly on the longish side, head bent as if reading. She starts to walk towards him, but he lifts his head.

"Hello again." she smiles. He raises an eyebrow. "You dropped this." Laura takes out the dagger, and holds it out to him, handle first.

"Shouldn't you being dialing 911 and screaming about some crazed dagger wielding murderer?" he asks, "shouldn't you be frightened about the fact that I have dagger like this with me?"

Laura laughs softly, "I'm not afraid of much, plus then I'd be a hypocrite." She reaches down her shirt and pulls out a tiny arrow shaped dagger on a leather string around her neck.

Now it was Vishous' turn to laugh. Imagine that. Girl with an attitude to match his own. He liked that. He also really, really likes the way she smells. Damn…

"And I don't recommend that book. It sucks." She tells him. Vishous looks down at the book he's holding. Something on President Kennedy.

"You whore!" Laura spun around, in time to see her ex, Kyle, aim the gun at her.

Her eyebrows mesh together, she didn't understand. A gun? What? Time was slowing as she stood. what she was seeing just wasn't comprehending with her brain.

BANG!!

She was roughly pulled away, where she crashes to the floor, her body bouncing with the force of impact.


	2. Chapter 2 Hospital

I do not own anything or any of the characters. They are a product of the amazing J.R. Ward

Laura felt the scream bubbling in her throat as she watched the man's body fall to the ground in front of her, blood bubbling up from his chest like some Japanese fountain, pooling beneath him like water. Kyle was gone when she glances up, the lingering scent of baby powder invading her nose. Laura crawls over to the man's massive body.

"Leave…" he mumbles, head rolling to the side. Her hands were shaking as she rips off her sweatshirt, trying to staunch the massive blood flow. Already it stained her jeans, her sweatshirt, her hands…

"No, you fool! I'm not leaving!" How could he ask such a thing of her? "Someone call 911!" Laura screeches at the gathering crowd. Spectators pointed, one took a picture with their phone like she was standing next to Johnny Depp, and a woman fainted. Their was screaming, sirens somewhere far away

Thinking quickly, "He's my boyfriend! Please someone help!" she yells, ripping off his jacket, she notices the Glock and winces. Please don't let there be anything else! She cries in her head. Eyeing the daggers, she quickly grabs them and shoves them into her bag.

"Don't…go home…" he moans, as another clean shirt is pressed over the bullet wound. Laura glances up, grateful for who ever decided help and lend some kindness in her direction. She looks back down at the man. He had just saved her life. She didn't know him, but he saved her. Even though the arsenal he carries in her jacket may incline to a different presumption she knew he couldn't be evil.

"No. you're dying. Shut up." she commands, holding the shirt over him, adding pressure. He gives her a smile, wan and pained. His diamond blue eyes closed, his breath gasped out. Laura pressed down.

"Don't you dare die on me!" And that was the last thing Vishous heard.

Someone was pulling her hands away. "NO! NO!" she screams, fighting to get to him. No one would take him from her. Her life was his. She was becoming hysterical, reaching out for him, fighting to get to him.

But she wasn't seeing him anymore.

Laura was dazed, shocked more like it. From the moment the man's eyes closed, it was such a blur for her. She remembers putting on his leather jacket; she remembered it was heavy and warm. They let her keep when she said she his girlfriend, they didn't think twice. They knew she was in shock, how could they take away the jacket of a girl who is about to lose her boyfriend?

The EMTs, the ambulance, the emergency room. Doctors running around, and then asking questions, questions, so many questions.

She lied.

Yes, that was it. She lied. Victor. That was his name. Age 28. Her boyfriend, they were out. Just out. Kyle was her ex. Did she know he had disappeared three months ago? Medical records for Victor? Where were they? How long had she known him? Why wasn't his name coming up in the system? Did she know of any genetic disorders? What did he do? Why didn't she know? Early relationship? So many questions. So many lies.

She looked at her hands, they were covered in blood. Deep and rich and red, it was sticky and dried on her. Marking her permanently. She wanted to take a shower, but couldn't find the heart to leave. She was so scared, well not scared, more worried. Sure it really wasn't her problem, she didn't know him and she most certainly did not ask for him to pull her out of the way and take a bullet for her.

But the moment she hid the daggers and put on his jacket, she knew, she was involved.

There was no going back. None. That road was forever blocked.

Laura curls up in his jacket, ignoring that hospital smell, pushing the memories away, and hoping. Hoping for what? Well she didn't really know that.

When he finally came out of surgery, he was pale and well those zombies from _Night of the Living Dead_ looked more alive then he did. She sighs as she is ushered into the room. The nurse had told she could stay with him. She said there was going to be more questions. Police were getting involved.

Laura sighed; she knew the cops were going to get involved sooner or later. It just happens to be sooner rather then later. She pulls over a stiff chair, the stuffing more like stones. She brings her legs up, tucking them under her small body, and snuggling into the jacket. She hadn't taken it off.

"You better wake up soon, buddy." She tells to his unconscious form. "I ain't lying for you much more."

Then she lays her head back, and pulls her bag into her lap. She pulls out the book she was going to buy. As her eyes drift closed against her own will, she faintly realizes she never paid for it.

"What do you mean that Vishous was shot?" Wrath fumes, his foggy green eyes hidden behind wrap around sunglasses. Sunglasses that did nothing to hide the brunt of that death look he was giving two of his brothers. Butch shuffles impatiently on his feet, obviously worried for his friend. Phury was the one who spoke.

"My Lord, we exterminated the slayer rather quickly, but Vishous told us he had some unfinished business in the store. I thought nothing of it, until I saw the sirens and smelt blood. Vampiric blood, my lord." He explains his multi-colored hair dirty, his face drawn. The one night he's permitted to fight and something goes wrong. Horribly wrong.

"So me and Phury over here did some investigating. I did the old cop routine and everything. Found out some giant of a man was shot…while protecting his girlfriend or some shit. They took him to Caldwell Medical." Butch finishes. Wrath nods, and Phury stands up from his spot on one of the couches.

"Aw…shit. This is not good. Didn't we already do this? You know what you have to do." Wrath curses again, and pounds his fist on his pansy desk, lightly. It could break. Butch and Phury nod. Wrath waves his hand in dismissal. The guy was working himself to death. they all knew it, but no one said anything. His temper was a short fuse lately.

They go to leave. "Oh, and Phury?"

Phury turns around, an eyebrow raised in question. "You lost him. So you get him back." Wrath orders. Phury tries to hide his smile, and nods.

"Yes my Lord."


	3. Chapter 3 Escape!

Phury along with Butch and John Matthew pulled into Caldwell Medical's visitor parking lot, the lights popping off one by one, leaving it in pitch blackness. Phury killed the engine, looks over at his brothers. "We ready to roll?" he asked them. Solemn faces nod.

Butch smiles "Let's get that son of a bitch out."

As Laura's eyes slowly blink open, her body is sore and that choking smell of hospital cleanliness and death attack. She sneezes, and then stretches her cramped muscles. Her hands are still stained with blood she couldn't completely wash off. The book falls from her lap, as she bends to pick it up; she notices a pair of ice white eyes watching her.

Laura immediately sits up. The tubes from his mouth have been pulled out, but an expression of agony is etched into his face. He's trying to hide it.

Fail.

His eyes were deep, and he held an aura of intimidation, even from his position on the hospital bed. Which she was afraid of collapsing under him any minute.

"Hello there." She says, standing up to observe any other damage he's done. He raises an eyebrow, and then smirks as he realizes she has his jacket. She chuckles, and opens the flap so he could do inventory on his weapons.

"All there. I promise. Your daggers are in my bag." She explains, pulling the chair a little closer. She looks around at the silent hospital. She stands up again, fidgety now that he's awake. She hated hospital. Her life had been spent here. She hides her shiver as she trots to the door and looks down the hallway. No one. The place was empty as a cemetery. She almost laughs at her analogy.

"Now shouldn't you be sleeping? Seeing…" she stops and checks her cell phone, "just got out of massive surgery like twelve hours ago?" she asks, taking her seat next to bed. His arm twitches, moves closer to her. But he was breathing on his own, which was a good thing.

"No…" he rasps. Her eyes go wide in shock. They were light and honey-brown, with sparkles of green. She was unordinary but yet ordinary at the same time. So small and slight, no more then five-two or so.

"Shut up!" she squeaks, "don't talk you idiot! You've just got shot in the lung and you want to use them?" she shakes her head, then stands up, going to head over to his other side. His arm, the one without the glove, shots up and grabs her forearm in a death grip. Laura doesn't move but stares at him, confused.

"Don't you think those tubes should be in?" she asks him, meeting his gaze and holding it. His eyes told her to back down, and Laura was willing to bet big money that mostly everyone who had met those eyes looked away.

But Laura didn't.

The man smiled. Revealing those long canines, something that seemed more fit for a Doberman then a man. He let go of her arm. She pulls it towards her. "Now let me go see if I can get a nurse, alright?" He looks beyond her towards the door. Laura turns her head around, and feels like screaming again.

The two men that had entered the room were huge. As in like SUV's on legs, one with a kinder face and short brown hair, the other wearing a Red Sox cap. they had the whole whole big bad, and dangerous going for them. but they were both handsome men, not that Laura noticed. But their leathers, guns, and pissed faces meant bad news. Very bad news.

Laura spun fully around, and slipped one of the daggers out of the bag as she threw it to the ground. "Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound as intimidating as the man in the bed. The two raised their eyebrows as if they couldn't comprehend what they were seeing. Red Sox laughed.

"And what are you going to do?" Red Sox asked, taking a step closer. Laura narrows her eyes dangerously. Her grip tightening. "Give me back the dagger, Shorty, before you hurt yourself."

Laura's fury wells up and spilled over the top, she was size sensitive.

"I'll castrate you if you take even one more step." She warned, almost tempted to cut him off sooner. She risked a quick glance at the patient, who lay watching her intently, an amused look in his gorgeous eyes.

Red Sox moved.

Laura lunged, quick, actually taking Red Sox by surprise, but he proved to be faster. The dagger nicked only his thigh as she flew past, cutting through the leather and leaving a trail of blood behind. The silent one grabbed her arms, locking them behind her back, and holding her still. The dagger fell from her hands, only to clatter on the floor.

"Stop…" the patient tried to order. Laura shot him a look before tightening her upper body. Red Sox came over, Laura jumped, using her arms to keep her up, kicked at Red Sox, catching him in the chin. Red Sox glared at her, rubbing his jaw.

"John…hold her still." Red Sox orders. He walks over to Vishous. "You're an attention whore. Second time, buddy." Vishous smirks, shaking his head. "I do love attention." He replies sarcastically. Butch reaches for the wires.

"Don't you touch him! I'll…" she stops, shakes her head, "Don't! He's hurt!" she screeches, struggling like a wild thing. "Get away!" she yells again. Tugging at her arms, trying desperately to get free. Panicking, John invades in her mind. And mentally knocks her out. She slumps in his arms.

Vishous growls, making Butch back up. "She's coming."

"Not again."

"yes again. She's coming. With me."

"Why? She ain't a doc."

"She's coming, Butch. End. Of. Story."

Butch looks at John Matthew, who shrugs and slings her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Vishous growls again, "Be gentle." He snaps, then stops, trying to catch his breath.

The two raise eyebrows. Butch helps Vishous get up. "Let's blow this joint."

"Agreed."

As they passed the nurse's station they gave a Phury the classic don't-ask-questions look as Butch helped V down the hall. Phury didn't say much, but finished wiping the system of any traces that any of them had been here. He then ran to catch up.

When they reached the car, he looked over at the unconscious form of the girl, then at Vishous, and finally at Butch. "Wrath is going to kill you."

"I know."

"Oh well, as long as you know." Phury shook his head. They were all doomed.


	4. Chapter 4 RUN!

Laura's head felt heavy, like someone had replaced her brains with bricks. Plus there was this horrible ache like a tiny little fairy was behind her eyes and pecking at them with a rusty needle. She bumping, but the bouncing was softened except for something jutting irritatingly into her back. Laura realized she was in a car, a large car that smelled of Turkish tobacco and a little of Scotch. She wrinkles her nose and lets out a soft breath. the tension that fills the tiny space was enough to make her sneeze.

She moans and tries to roll over.

But is prevented from doing so by a pair of thick arms, they hold her like a steel cage. Her body seizes up like a wooden board, her muscles tightening like wires. The arms around her contract their hold around her slim form, but when Laura's body doesn't respond further they loosen as if realizing she was no threat. "Is she waking up?" was a muffled reply from beyond her. Laura fought the urge to open her eyes…or scream bloody murder.

Their was a hesitancy, a waiting silence within in the vehicle. "Well?" was the gruff respond. Their was some hushed conversation, partially in a language that Laura didn't know. But the tone told her all she needed to hear. Cajoling, reassurance. Yeah who in their right mind would be afraid of petite, hundred and ten pound girl who wasn't even as round as their bicep. _Come on_. Puh-lease.

The minute those arms loosened, Laura was off. Her eyes flew open wide as her hands clawed at the seat pulling her away. She took in a deep breath ready to scream. She saw the door, but the patient's sprawled body was in her way. His head resting against a rolled up leather jacket, eyes closed, breathing labored. she had to get out, but she knew she couldn't bring him. he'd be too big for her to caryy - duh- and she didn't have the time. if she found any cops she could tell them about him.

She screeched in anger, twisting away as hands groped for her squirming body. Legs barely slipped through the arms. The truck she was in swerved sharply. Laura lands with an ungraceful bounce on the floor, the air rushing out of her.

Screeching brakes brought the large SUV to a fast stop, forcing Laura's tiny body into the back of the front seats, her head snapping like a kite in a hurricane. She groans in misery, but didn't wait. No time for waiting. She leaped for the door, threw up the automatic lock and the door opened letting in a blast of cool air.

She saw freedom, felt freedom, could even smell its sweetness in the air as her legs propelled her forward.

Forgetting everything, her heart racing like a Thoroughbred she made a wild dash for it. Jumping from the SUV her feet land on hard asphalt, her sneakers cushioning the fall. Her ankle twists slightly but she didn't stop. Her legs pump, but it was pointless. They were in the middle of freakin' no-where. on a lonelyr stretch of Route 22, her only hope a bunch of drunken rednecks God-only-knows where some place along the road. Her hope faltered as she heard laughter.

Heavy man dominating I-got-you-now-bitch kinda laughter. She saw the silent one materializing – yes materialize – in front of her. Blaming it on head trauma she veers off towards the forest which lay thick as thieves in Arabia on the side of the road. Panting already and cursing her lack of an exercise routine, Laura jumps into the tangle of trees and bushes.

Her mind was blank but her body was screaming with adrenaline, her basic survival instincts being pushed into overload. For the first time in her life, she was scared, distinctly afraid. What the fuck had she gotten herself into now?

Somewhere in the back of her logical brain, which had been currently pushed into the far confines of her mind, it told her to try to stop making so much noise. She might have as well put a neon sign on her body and scream 'HERE I AM!' But she wasn't thinking, she was just running, running, running….

Get away. Run faster, and faster, and faster. Her legs pumping, propelling her through the forest at break neck speeds, well for a human anyway. She didn't think, didn't stop, who cared where she ended up? As long as she got away from those men.

All she thought was run. Run, run, run, run. Run. Run faster. Just run. Don't think, don't stop. Just keep running. Like that song from the movie her baby cousin liked. 'Just keep running. Just jeep running. Running, running, running.' so that's exactly what she did, heart pounding, legs pumping, running.

Then she wasn't.

She hit a wall of some sort; a big, massive wall. She looks up from her spot on the ground. Gasps.

Yeah a wall alright.

A wall with two yellow eyes, long flowing hair that made hers look disgusting. A mouth in a quirky smile, with fangs. Yes a wall with fangs. She cocks her head to the side, studying the two pearly white canines. Funny, the guy at the hospital had fangs too.

A coincidence? Most definitely not. Laura scowls.

"Are you going to kill him?"

The mountain of a guy squatted and watches her intently. "While no little female I won't kill you." He says, smiling again. she had a feeling he was playing with her, but she pushed that thought aside. he had a nice smile she decided. Warm and comforting, his yellow buttercup eyes reminding her of sunlight hitting her bed in the early spring. He towered over her, even with his knees bent.

"I didn't say me. Him, the guy, y' know the one you kidnapped from the hospital? You going to kill him?" she re-asked, taking in deep breaths. Now that she wasn't moving, her body took the time to casually remind her that it wasn't used to running. And it didn't like it either. The spasm of pain that shot up from her bad knee was going to be a problem when she needed to walk again. She knew.

"Why do you care?" The Buttercup guy asked. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Why shouldn't I?" she countered, crossing her arms over her chest, an aggressive move on her part.

"You don't know him."

"So? Can't people just care about other people without having their motives questioned? Sheesh." Laura scoffed watching the guy stand up. She felt so small compared to him. That made her even more pissed. He offered her his hand, a well tailored hand, so perfect, like his face and his hair.

Laura knew she couldn't get up without help, but god damn it she wasn't going to ask for any. Or accept it. Setting her mouth in a grim line, she rolled over, balancing on her good knee and hands. She could feel the guy watching her. Laura stopped, and looked around for a tree to help her up. She was about to crawl over to one when two powerful hands landed on her side and placed her upright.

"Did you hurt yourself?" the Buttercup man asked. Laura didn't reply, her eyes grim and cold.

Phury was amazed at the tiny woman's prowess, and determination. She was smart, veering off into the woods like she did, but she was no match for the Brotherhood. Somehow he didn't think he should tell her that though.

She was dirty now, mud smeared across her baggy clothes, her hands slightly scraped. Her thick brown hair was coming out of the tight ponytail, and her lips were turning a nice shade of blue from the chill air.

"Come now. I'll take you back to the car. Don't worry." She staid put her eyes cautious, suspicious, untrusting. She studied him again, sizing him up. Phury had the distinct feeling that the woman knew she had lost this battle but wasn't stopping the war.

"You didn't answer my question." She states, her voice hard, very stone-like in quality. Phury blinked. Why did she care so much if Vishous lived or died? She certainly didn't stop to take him with her. Then again she was definitely smart enough she to know that she couldn't have. But why?

"We won't hurt him. Just heal him. We are in your debt for caring for our Brother when he was in need." Phury replied, bowing slightly. The look in her eyes said she'd accept this reply for now, but wasn't completely satisfied. She raised her chin in a show of defiance and went to take a step.

She didn't go far.

Phury caught her, and carried her back the rest of the way to the Escalade where Butch and John Matthew waited patiently, eyebrows raised as Phury came into view.

The girl didn't resist, but she didn't hold onto him either.


	5. Chapter 5 Bullet for me

Laura paced around the commodious room with a restless gait, her eyes searching the plain cell. She had taken to calling a cell since she woke up some time ago. The bed could fit at least her plus all of her friends and the guy with the multi-colored hair. She had no idea who would need a bed that size or how big that person must be. She shivered just thinking about it.

All she knew was she was worried, her bag was gone as well as her sweatshirt, her cell phone, keys, and the guy she was with. True Buttercup had reassured her that they weren't going to harm she didn't quite believe it was that simple. Nothing is ever that simple. She ran a sticky hand over her head, smoothing down stray hairs as she kept up her pacing.

If she kept this up for another hour or so their might be a hole in the plush rug beneath her feet. Oh her shoes and socks were gone as well. Talk about going overboard. She set her mouth into a grim line, and took inventory of the room.

No windows. One large canopy bed with dark blue coverings, the bed made of thick oak. A bathroom with a towel that was so soft it was like touching a lamb, but nothing useful within there either. The one other door was locked, a dead bolt. The place was impregnable.

Scowling she marched into the bathroom and turned the water in the sink on hot; she splashed her face and looked into mirror. Nothing special looked back at her and she was quite content with that. She scrubbed her hands clean, getting the last bits of blood from underneath the fingernails. She stopped when she heard the door open and close.

It was Red Sox but with some gorgeous- drop dead- he must have fallen from heaven blonde guy. He looked at her and gave her a dazzling smile, which should have knocked her to her knees. But it didn't. Laura's frown deepens.

"Where is he?" she demands. The blonde's eyes go wide slightly, glances at Red Sox guy.

"Hello to you too." The blonde replies with a chuckle. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a Tootsie Pop, unwraps it and sticks it in his mouth, sucking on it. "How you holdin' up in here?"

"Quit the pleasantries and tell me where he is." She ordered, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at them. Red Sox chuckled and nodded. "I like you." He states blatantly. Laura eyes him warily, taking a step towards the bed and away from him

"That's nice." She snaps, and then turns her attention to Blondie. "You goin' to tell me how he is or not? Better yet take me to him." Blondie raises an eyebrow at her determination to get to Vishous.

"And what? Miss out on spending bonding time with me and Butch?" he laughs, walking over to the bed and plopping down, he pats the side of it, and smiles, revealing fangs. Laura gulps down the spike of fear that runs up her spine.

What's with the fangs? She glances at Butch, aka Red Sox. He shrugs and leans casually against the door. She scowls and stands straighter. They weren't going to hurt her, at least she hoped not.

"As much as that sounds like so much fun, I'd rather be with my friend if you don't mind." She replies as cordially as possible. She leaned against the wall, and crossed her arms over her stomach, which growled.

"You hungry?" Butch asks her.

"No."

"Your stomach says otherwise."

Laura ignores him and focuses her attention on Blondie again, hoping he'd help. Though he was huge, as in gigantor type huge, and had the face of some fallen angel, she knew he wasn't to be messed with. The raw power radiated off him like a rat that found the toxic waste disposal from Hiroshima in 1946. "Can you take me to him? Please?" she asks, knowing that snapping at them like a crocodile on PMS wasn't going to get her very far.

"Why? Do you know him?" Blondie asks her, "I mean c'mon, why you want to go to him? That goatee? It looks like he's trying out for Mime's International."

"I think it's sexy."

"You are sheltered aren't you?" Blondie laughed eyes so blue it was nearly impossible. His pouty pink lips only added to his desirability.

"No…now please just take me to him!" She was on the verge at screaming at them. What was the big deal? Why couldn't they just take her to him and make everyone's life easier? Butch shrugs.

"I don't think that do-able."

"Why the hell not?" Laura demands, her eyes moving from Blondie to Butch and back again. "I saved his sorry ass….well technically he saved mine, but I helped him out! It's not like I'd hurt him or anything."

"Oh really?" Butch inquires his interested pique. Well that was interesting.

"Yeah. He took the bullet for me." Laura explains quietly, a sweep of fear seizing her as she thought what that bullet could have done to her.

Butch's eyes connected with Rhage's and the shock was eminent. Vishous? As in tall, dark, and icy? Fuck-off, I couldn't really care Vishous?

That was _very_ interesting.

Wrath leaned forward in his chair, locking eyes with everyone in the room. John Matthew and Tohr sat in an overstuffed powder blue couch on the far side of the room, they overwhelmed it, but they were obviously comfortable. Qhuinn stood at the ready next to John Matthew, a grim look on his face. Blaylock next to him. Rhage and Butch leaned against the double doors, Rhage sucking on another tootsie pop. His teal blues serious. Zsadist was tense, at his usually spot in the corner. Lassiter had his arms crossed his chest, a smirk plastered on his face, but standing quietly by the window. Payne was sprawled, all bad-ass, in a chair by the desk. Jane floated transparently next to Wrath.

Sadly Phury had to return to his shellan Cormia, and the Adirondacks, having to skip out on the meeting.

"So the analysis, Doc?" Wrath orders. Jane clears her throat, looks at all of the warriors in the room. Her eyes are hard, but worried.

"The bullet was steel." She announces. "And has done considerable damage to his left lung. Actually it blew it pretty much to pieces, the steel preventing it form healing properly."

Curses flew through the room. But Wrath held up a hand to silence them. They complied.

"Butch? Rhage? What we go on the girl?" Wrath barks. Butch shifts uncomfortable, looks at Rhage who nods sullenly.

"It is confirmed. Vishous took the bullet for her." Butch announces. Stunned silence descends upon the group, and then Zsadist starts laughing, breaking it.

"That son of a bitch."


End file.
